


The Purge: Winchester Edition

by plzdean (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural, The Purge (2013), The Purge - Fandom, The Purge: Anarchy (2014)
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, The Purge, literally dont know what else to tag i mean it's basically just spn characters in the purge universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2167614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/plzdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, and Castiel have traveled to the year 2024 to hunt a particularly dangerous nest of vampires. Only, their simple hunt is disturbed when they're interrupted by the annual 'purge'; and quickly find themselves targeted to be purged from society by those working on behalf of the New Founding Fathers to cleanse the population.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Purge: Winchester Edition

"You boys have a safe night tonight, ‘kay?" the lady behind the desk smiled, as if somehow knowing their plans. They had travelled to the year 2024, with a little help from Castiel of course, to hunt and kill a particularly dangerous nest of vampires whose sheer existence threatened the present-day world back in 2014.

"I'm sure we will." Dean smiled politely, sending his brother a quick frown as if to say _'can people in this decade read minds?'_ as she turned away to replace their motel room door key on the hanger behind the desk. Dean turned to Castiel, who was looking through a number of leaflets detailing things to do in the city, and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's go."

As they reached they reached the Impala, an old beat up truck towing an open-topped trailer sped past on the highway. Standing in the back of the trailer shouting into the evening sky were a number of young men wearing obscene masks. They looked horrific; plastic faces contorted into crude smirks, decorated in red, black and white. “I HOPE YOU’RE READY!” One of them yelled.

"What, is it Halloween already?" Dean muttered as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

"Beats me." Sam said quietly as he buckled up his seat belt. "I didn't think travelling to the year 2024 would be so strange."

"They seemed to be celebrating something." Castiel muttered, an expression of deep thought setting into his tired face.

Dean opened his mouth to reply with the usual "no shit, Sherlock," but the sight of the masks had sent a shudder of unknown fear through his body and found his words to be lost.

"We better head downtown before it gets too dark." Sam decided. "We don't want an unnecessary run in with those creepy masks again."

Dean nodded and switched the ignition, too shaken to turn the radio on as they pulled out of the unusually-deserted motel car park.

***

They were in the Impala, waiting silently for a sign of vampire activity down a dank alley way across from the building where the alleged vampire nest had taken refuge, when _it_ happened.

The car and it's surroundings were dead silent - it seemed they had hardly seen a single car pass them for nearly twenty minutes which was unusual downtown. Dean opened his mouth to raise question to this, when he was abruptly interrupted by the car's radio switching itself on.

"What the-"

"Look." Sam said suddenly, holding up his phone. The screen was blue, and no matter how many buttons he pressed, he couldn't escape it.

A brief siren filled the airwaves, broken by a female voice.

_"This is not a test."_

_"This is your Emergency Broadcast System announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge."_

"The _what_?"

_"Weapons of class 4 and below have been authorised for use during the Purge. All other weapons have been restricted,"_

"Dean..."

" _Commencing at the siren, all crimes, including murder, will be legal for twelve continuous hours."_

"Oh my god."

_"Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."_

The three of them sat still, unmoving, as the siren ripped through the silent streets, only to be met by the deafening roar of a machine gun fire from what seemed like only a few blocks away.

"What the hell is a _purge_?" Sam grimaced.

"Like hell I know. But the whole ‘ _all crimes, including murder, will be legal for twelve continuous hours_ ’ bit doesn't sound so good. We've gotta get out of here, and fast." Dean spat, grabbing a gun from the Impala's glove compartment and climbing quickly from the car. He marched quickly round the back and opened the trunk, piling as many guns and rifles and knives he could possibly carry, before dumping them in the spare seat beside Castiel and climbing back into the driver’s seat. Without giving anybody a second of thought to decide on a plan, Dean hit the gas, and the car sped out of the alley way and into the high street.

Masked men opened fire on them as they rounded the sharp corner, tires burning rubber and engine whining under pressure. The windows cracked with each bullet, and Castiel and Sam both ducked for cover.

"Who the hell thought this _purge_ was a good idea?" Dean spat as they reached a stretch of highway seemingly undisturbed by violence.

"I don't know, but I'm fairly sure God is _not_ with us in this madness." Castiel muttered, eyeing up what appeared to be a headless body, with a grimace of disgust.

They rounded a sharp corner, only to find themselves facing an oncoming streetcar - masked men standing in the sunroof with an army-grade machine gun mounted on at their shoulders. As soon as the masked men spotted them, they found themselves driving straight into a hail of bullets. Dean swerved to avoid them but the engine suddenly gave out, and they found the car gently rolling into the curb.

"GRAB AS MANY WEAPONS AS YOU CAN CARRY." Dean yelled as he jumped from the front seat to help - well, _pull_ \- Castiel out of the car; he shoved a riffle into each of Castiel's hands and a couple of shot guns into Sam's, and let his eyes flit to the advancing purgers for just a split second. He slid his own shot gun into his belt and snatched the remaining knives from the backseat, before the silence was broken once again, and he found himself ducking for safety behind the Impala. The three of them could hardly hear each other speak over the sound of the machine gun fire, but once the firing ceased they all just knew they had to get away as quickly as they could.

They tore down the nearest alleyway behind a block of apartments filled with unfortunate civilians who had no intentions of joining in the purge, but had found themselves fearing for their lives, preparing for the worst. Before Dean or any of them had a chance to let their eyes adjust to the darkness, they were face to face with a chain-link fence. The three of them scaled it pretty easily, and Dean was thankful he'd taught Sammy to do that from such a young age. Only, as soon as their feet touched ground on the other side they were met by shouts from both ends, followed by rapid gun fire, bullets ricocheting off the metal fence in every direction. Dean damn-near dived over his brother and angel to cover them from the bullets. But by the time they were finally blessed with a break in the firing, the three masked men on their side of the fence were fast approaching.

Sam fired relentlessly at them. He hit one in the throat, another straight through the heart. But by the time he'd moved his aim onto the third one he was already too close. He jumped up and grabbed Sam by the throat, forcing him backwards into the hard ground. Castiel turned to the masked gang on the other side of the fence and walked slowly towards them. They began to shoot at him, but the bullets did no damage.

"Hey, this bitch ain't takin it." One of the masked gangsters yelled to the others. The firing intensified, but to no effect on the angel. “He ain’t taking our titanium bullets.”

"What the fuck."

"He's invincible, brah, I swear it."

Castiel stopped walking, nose a couple of inches from the fence, and took hold of one of the machine guns poked through one of the holes. With one quick movement he jerked the gun downwards snapping it clean in half. The firing stopped and the gangsters looked on in awe.

"I suggest you stop trying to kill me and my friends." The angel said simply.

"Or what? It's our god given right to kill on this night."

"God was never consulted about this." Castiel muttered before cleaning his fists and forcing his grace out of every atom in his body; the whole ally illuminated in a blinding bright light, and the gangsters screamed in agony as their insides were burnt out and their eyes evaporated in their skulls. Castiel smiled at his work as the gangsters fell dead to the floor, and turned around in time to see Dean stabbing the life out of the masked gangster who had attacked Sam.

"He's dead, Dean." Sam panted where he lay in the dirt. "We've gotta go."

"Come." Castiel said. "The street down there is empty. If we're lucky it'll lead us back to the highway."

"No. We're gonna have to stay away from the highway if we're gonna be avoiding those insane masked sons-of-bitches. Our only aim is to stay alive until the Purge is over."

 

They sprinted to the end of the ally way and waited with their breath held until Dean confirmed that the coast was clear. But seconds before they were about to embark on a break into the clearing, they were startled by the sudden presence of a figure fast approaching them. The three of them snapped around with their guns held high and the figure stopped dead in it's tracks.

"Don't shoot." It choked. In the dim street lights, they could see the figure slowly raise his shaking arms. "Please...don't shoot me."

"Are you armed?" Dean spat.

The figure pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and held it out towards them. "I only have this."

"Drop it." Dean ordered.

"But-"

"Drop the damned thing, kid, before I shoot you in the head."

The figure dropped the knife, and Dean gestured with the gun for him to step into the street lights. The figure stumbled fearfully out of the ally way until he was fully exposed by the light, and the light revealed a scrawny dark-haired boy, no older than eighteen, covered in blood and sweat.

"Who are you?" Dean asked.

"My-my name is K-Kevin. K-kevin T-Tran."

"What are you doing out here?" Dean pressed.

The boy, Kevin, ignored his question. "Please j-just lower your g-guns."

Sam and Castiel did so, but Dean just gripped it tighter.

"Answer my question."

"I-I was on my way h-home from my girlfriend’s house...but I didn't realise w-what time it was. The sirens c-caught me completely off guard and I just wanna get h-home. I need to know that my m-mom is okay."

"Why should I believe you?"

" _Dean_ ," Sam sighed, "He's just a kid."

Dean glanced sideways at his brother and rolled his eyes as he slowly lowered the gun.

"P-please...I watched y-you guys take on those gangsters back there. Y-you can help me get home, r-right?"

Dean kept his gun clutched to his side as he spoke, "No way are we helping some kid-"

"We'll help you get back to your mom." Sam smiled, handing Kevin one of his shot guns.

Dean huffed and turned to the kid. "We'll help you, but if you get us killed, I swear to god I'll-"

"Where do you live?" Sam asked.

"Just a couple of b-blocks from here."

"Show us the way and we'll-"

"Somebody's coming." Castiel said quickly. "We've gotta move."

 

The four of them carried on into the street, only to find their path blocked by a stolen fire-engine parked across both lanes. Atop it sat two masked men with a flame thrower.

"Oh, wow, how _ironic_." Dean muttered sarcastically as he gestured to the others to take cover behind an abandoned car; the driver was hanging dead out of the windscreen, and the sight of it made Kevin stifle a small scream. The scream drew attention to them and the gangster suddenly stood up.

"Hey, you down there!" One of them called down to them. Dean stood up slowly with one of Castiel's rifles held up to aim.

"Why don't ya come a little closer? What's the matter with a _warm_ welcome?"

The other gangster opened up into a fit of hysterics, slapping his friend gleefully on the back. But all of a sudden he was met by a bullet that ripped straight through his skull and out the other side, and the laughter stopped. The other gangster stood up on top of the fire engine in alarm and grabbed his own machine gun, but just a second to slow, because bullets ripped through his body like a needle in fabric, and Dean took this sudden diversion as a chance to escape.

They sprinted down the street until they came to a back road, Sam stopping just in time to take out a sniper aimed at his older brother's head with a single shot to the chest.

"This way." Kevin muttered, pointing briefly down the back road. "I can see my apartment block from here."

As they began to walk, they were all suddenly aware of the fact the shadows were moving around them, and out stepped seven hooded men, each armed with particularly large blades.

The hooded men backed them into each other until they had them surrounded, brandishing their knives as if some silent warning.

"You goddamn sons-of-bitches really are at it hard tonight." Dean smirked.

"It's our god given right-" One of them started.

"Don't give me that bullcrap." Dean spat.

Castiel stepped forwards. "God would never-"

Dean raised a hand to his angel, a sign to shut up.

"By our rights granted by the New Founding Fathers, we are hereby permitted to cleanse our souls by ridding the world of the lesser." One of the hooded men said simply, as if rehearsed a thousand times before.

"We're here to cleanse this new-born country of the poor, the sick, and those unworthy." Said another. “It seems _you_ are unworthy. Or unlucky. Either way, you’re still dying tonight.”

"You have no right to deem my friends unworthy to live." Castiel spat angrily, grabbing the man by the wrist and shoving him to the ground, prying the blade out of his grip and slamming it down onto his neck.

The six remaining hooded figures stood in silence for a few minutes as the headless body spasmed in a pool of his own blood, head lolling from side to side, and then all hell broke loose.

Dean grabbed one by the head and kneed it in the chest, while Castiel caught another off guard and placed a hand firmly to his head to smite him. Sam narrowly missed a blow from another figure, and retaliated almost instantly by shooting him multiple times until the rifle ran out of bullets; then using the barrel of the empty gun to crack another's skull. Dean watched as Castiel effortlessly plunged a knife into the heart of one of the figures, and almost didn't see the one fast approaching him, which Dean greeted with a bullet to the brain.

They stood around amid the mass of bodies and let themselves just _breathe_ for a minute.

"Is everyone okay?" Dean asked. "Sam? Cas? You alright?"

They both nodded, and Castiel realised he was still holding the hooded figure's blade, dropping it limply to the floor with a loud clatter of metal on concrete.

Sam looked around suddenly "Hey, where's Kevin?"

"I'm here." He said, emerging shakily from behind a dumpster.

"Thanks for all the help, kid." Dean spat as they carried on towards Kevin's building.

 

They reached the back entrance of Kevin's apartment block to find it already unlocked, which meant that it was likely gang members had found their way inside already. Dean gestured for them to stay close to the wall and turned to Kevin.

"Fifth f-floor." He stammered fearfully.

Dean nodded and led them down the corridor towards the elevator.

But all of a sudden they were faced by two rather large men in crying clown masks. Their hands were covered in someone elses blood, gripping the leashes of two bloody Rottweilers pulling, snapping, snarling for freedom. The four wasted no time in opening fire, but their shot gun bullets were over powered by a machine gun. The dogs squealed in agony as they both received fatal hits at Sam's hand, but the clowns were harder to kill. Bullets bounced off the walls and Sam pushed Kevin to the floor out of the way, inadvertently causing himself to fall into the direct line of fire.

 

With one glance at his younger brother lying against the wall clutching his bleeding stomach, Dean snatched the gun from Castiel's hand and marched forwards, shooting relentlessly from the guns in each hand. The masked clowns fell to the floor, dead, but Dean didn't stop shooting until the sound of his gun shots were the only sound echoing throughout the empty halls. He stood over the limp bodies and ripped the masks from their faces to reveal to faces, two ordinary faces; the sort of faces you pass by in the street every day and never second guess. Slowly he bent down and placed a gun to each of their foreheads, and pulled the triggers on them one last time, splattering crimson blood across the walls and his own face.

"Dean." Castiel said softly, stepping beside him. "We've got to get Sam to safety so I can heal him."

Castiel helped Dean carry Sam into the elevator while Kevin carried the guns. Once inside, he pressed the button for floor number five, and they waited patiently for the doors to close and the elevator music to ensue. So there they were; four guys covered in other people's blood, one of them bleeding out across the elevator's floor as he struggled for breath, as Waterloo by ABBA played softly above the whir of the elevator's mechanics.

Once they reached the fifth floor, Kevin near-sprinted down the hallway until he came to his door, then called out through the letterbox for his mom to let them in.

 

They were greeted by a small old woman who took to the sight of Sam's injury and the sight of the bloodied weapons with a startled scream. Once the four of them were inside and the doors boarded up to stop anybody else from getting in, Mrs Tran ordered them to leave all weapons in the kitchen, and ushered them into the living room where they were finally, at last safe.

"How much longer is left of this goddamn purge?" Dean asked as he watched Castiel place two gentle fingers to his brother's wounds, healing him instantly.

"Six hours." Mrs Tran sighed. "You can wait out the rest of the time here - it's the only way I can think to thank you for bringing my son back to be alive."

"Saving people is what we do best." Sam smiled humbly.

"Yeah, well, if we're gonna have any chance at waiting out the next six hours, Mr Fancy Wings over here is gonna have to guard the apartment block for us." Dean said.

Castiel sighed and took to his duty with a small nod of the head, before disappearing out of the room with a flutter of wings in an instant.

Kevin stood up suddenly. "Where did he...?

Dean opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the front door burst off it's hinges. As the dust cleared, the masked men they'd seen earlier on the highway began to file into the room with their machine guns outstretched, aiming right at them. Dean felt a chill creep up his spine at the sight of the masks; they were even more horrific up close. In fact, Dean could’ve sworn he could see the glint of human eyes behind the masks if he squinted close enough, and that alone scared him more than anything.

He reached for the gun he usually carried at his waistband, but remembered that it was laying in the kitchen sink along with the rest of their weapons, along with any chance they had of getting out of that situation alive.

And then, unprovoked, and by the right they’d been given by the Founding Fathers to cleanse the population of the unworthy, the masked men opened fire on them.


End file.
